Finishing the Arch
by Clariz
Summary: A couple of years after the Chesapeake, new revelations change Clarice's outlook of Hannibal. This fictions diverts somewhat from the cannon.
1. Default Chapter

The characters all belong to Thomas Harris, I have nothing and make no profit from these stories.

_This story is a little different that others I wrote, in that it is more surreal in form. Once I came across the idea, I was compelled to go on with it. There will be another, final chapter, to it._

_Any religious implications are solely for the for the purpose of the story. I meant no religious implications whatsoever and the contents here are certainly not meant to insult any beliefs._

Finishing the Arch 

While she laid dying in the bathtub, Clarice watched her entire life flash in front of her eyes like a pathetic B movie. Through it all, the predominant image was that of Dr. Lecter, he remained the leading element in her life all the way until the end.

Watching the scenes played back in her head, she thought she might have been too judgment of him, worse yet too arrogant in her judgment. 

The next thing she saw was bright light at the end of a long dark tunnel, and she floated inside the tunnel towards the light. 

When she reached the other side, he was there waiting, all dressed in white as he had been at in Memphis. Only this time instead of his pajamas he wore a white suit, a white tie, and white shoes. His dark hair was combed back as it was his fashion, and his dark maroon eyes bore into hers when he stretched his hand to help her out of the tunnel and into a bright sunny park full of light, green foliage, and endless blue skies as far as her eyes could see… a place of great beauty.

"Hello, Clarice," he greeted, smiling gently.

"Where are we, Dr. Lecter?" 

"We are in the gardens that lead to the gates of Judgment, Clarice." He enunciated her name as he had from the start, when they first met at the dungeon, the tone now devoid of sarcasm.

His face looked as young and intense as it did back then, but it had a nice healthy color to it. The intensity in his eyes was overwhelming; and he looked dashing in his white suit. 

She felt drab by comparison, but when she looked down at herself, she was dressed in a white tunic of a light material, with an overlay floating around her like a bridal gown.

"_If this is death,"_ she though, "_we might have been better off dead a long time ago, both of us."_

But instead, she asked in a whisper, "are you my pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, Doctor?" 

"That is for you to determine, Clarice, I know you are mine." he answered frankly. "What I wanted most in life."

"You mean, one gets the chose?" she asked, surprised. 

"Once you redeem yourself, you get to chose, Clarice; you get to keep for eternity the one thing you wanted most in life."

"But what if one doesn't make it, what happens to the ones left behind?" It was academic, she knew, because this was going to be the moment of judgment, but still, she had to know the rules, she needed to understand. "What if one doesn't find redemption in time?

She had plenty of reason to be concerned because she had just killed herself, and it didn't take a genius to figure that her chances to enter Paradise were rather impaired.

"That is what we have been doing, Clarice." explained Hannibal Lecter. "One gets to go back and start all over again from square one, figure out the mistakes and try to fix them. Is commonly called _recycling_"

Clarice wanted to know more, but was afraid of what she'd hear and remained silent for a few moments while he patiently waited for her next question, which he anticipated.

" How do you know all this?" she asked

"We've been recycled before, Clarice. We were already dead when we met. Dead, and in the course of our first recycle" He wanted to let it sink in, before he continued

"We met in hell, you and I, Clarice. The dungeon was my hell and the FBI was yours."

She was quiet for a while, and they sat on a bench. 

"Why?" It was all she could ask.

"I can only tell about my situation. Yours will all be explained to you, but not by me." His tone was soft and almost tender. His voice had lost the metallic undertones and was very peaceful. "There will be a hearing. You will not have a chance to plead your case, but there will be no interference with your freedom of choice." Then he added reflectively, "or mine for that matter."

Somehow, even before he said it, she knew he was already redeemed.

"Why are you here, then?" She needed to get a clear picture, but it was all bizarre and a bit surrealistic. " Please, tell me as much as you can."

"Originally, because in life I chose to take justice in my own hands. I knew that some of my patients were evil and couldn't divulge their secrets, so I eliminated them myself" he chuckled, "my own version of damage control, if you will. My approach didn't meet with approval and certainly didn't secure my direct access to heaven."

"You got recycled to correct your mistakes?

"Not exactly correct them, but to make points to earn my redemption, Clarice"

"How did you die, Dr. Lecter?"

"Will Graham killed me and I killed him back at the townhouse when he _caught_ me, neither of us survived."

"Were is Will  now?"

"I suppose in Marathon, Florida, his version of Purgatory" 

"The dungeon was your version of Hell, then?

"Yes, being in the dungeon, under Dr. Chilton's supervision, plus the fact that I couldn't communicate, was misunderstood and considered a monster; and later on, after we met, confronted with the very real possibility of never having you by my side …hell indeed, specially the first time"

"Specially the first time…" she echoed, then asked "was everyone there recycled; were we all dead, Dr Lecter?"

"Yes, everyone was being recycled"

"So, those people you killed to escape and to keep your freedom, and the ones I killed; the ones at the Fish Market and at the Verger Estate, they were already dead?" Then, in utter amazement "even Jame Gumb and Evelda Drumgo… Johnny Brigham?" she paused just a second to put the pieces together. "Krendler…they were all being _recycled?"_

A hint of admiration crept in his eyes, awed by her ability to process information "Yes" he answered simply.

A chilling suspicion assaulted her and she closed her eyes to protect herself from the impact of the answer she anticipated "Why did you get recycled a second time, Doctor.?" An invisible cold hand was gripping her guts and she felt sick 

He was momentarily silent and she repeated, a little more emphatic this time, "how many recycles ago did you find redemption Dr. Lecter?"

"Just one, Clarice this was my second time around, and I _chose_ to come back" he looked away as a child caught doing mischief.

In her head, his voice said "_Would you 'ever' say to me stop, if you love me, stop_" the pathos of his question hit like a bolt of lightning and she was devastated by the force of the implications.

"You _volunteered_ to go back to hell?" Clarice sounded dismayed

"The first time I was recycled for my redemption, Clarice. But you became part of the equation and you got stuck. I had a choice to go into heaven alone and forsake you for eternity, or go back for you. I _chose_ to go back." 

Clarice looked straight into his eyes "How many times have we been _recycled,_ Hannibal_?_" She used his name for the first time. His eyes told her he had taken it in. "How many times did you _chose_ to return to hell for me?

"It doesn't matter," he answered evasively. "Who is counting?"

_"_I am_," _she responded_, "_I have to know."

"After the Chesapeake, I got out clean, but you got stuck; things went very wrong for you," he rubbed one hand over his face as if to chase away the memories, "you had to be recycled again, Clarice" 

She gave him a blank, confused look "I imagine we don't get to take with us full memories of the previous recycles?" she elaborated.

"Generally that is true, we don't. It depends on the individual case, however."

In some cases of multiple recycles you just get what you need to go forward. For instance, I've always been aware that I was dead and_ recycled, _but I couldn't communicate it to others." His eyes were full of light when he added, "my feelings for you, I found anew every time, you represent the constant element of my existence; but one doesn't keep the full memories of each previous _recycle_, that would be cheating, and pointless." 

He paused and before he could go on she asked, "Did we have this conversation before?"

He nodded, "yes, Clarice, we did."

_"We don't reckon time the same way, Clarice."_ His old voice in Memphis echoed in her mind.

"You were not allowed to tell many thing, back then, were you?" Within the bizarre setting, it was all beginning to make sense.

"I couldn't communicate directly, no." Responded the Doctor, then chuckled, "it doesn't work that way."

"Is that why you never gave me direct answers regarding the Buffalo Bill case?"

He extended both hands, palms up as in part apology and part surrender

"That was part of the deal, Clarice. Like Cassandra, I knew the answers but couldn't communicate them."

It no longer mattered, she thought, and dropped the subject. There were more important issues to clear up.

"…And now, what?…" she felt engulfed in a cloud of dread.

"I just killed myself, Hannibal, no heaven for me this time around, I'm sure." her hell, she realized, was to go through eternity without him.

"We'll have choices, Clarice"

"Together, we'll decide together?" she was hopeful.

He stood up and offered her his hand.

"Let's say that the next step will be contingent on the outcome of the hearing. If you are recycled for your salvation, then I'll chose to just go back and start again until we manage to finish the arch." He shrugged. "I can't fathom eternity without you, Clarice." He helped her up

She wished she had been less judgmental of him when she had a chance, that she had accepted her feelings for him; then felt a sudden impulse to touch him and wondered if it was possible for two dead people to touch.

Carefully she placed a hand on his arm. He looked at her hand and covered it with his own.

"And then?…" she insisted, pleased to discover that they could _feel_ as if they were alive.

The Doctor didn't answer, he took her by the arm and guided her to a crypt like structure at one the side of the garden. He opened the door and led her in. She stopped then, and turned around to face him. He waited.

Slowly she put her arms around his waist and leaned her head on his shoulder "_dead people can hug."_ She said to herself, simultaneously marveled and reassured. 

He wrapped one arm around her and with his free hand smoothed her hair, his eyes like deep maroon pools. 

"We have to go in now, Clarice" and guided her inside the structure.

The room was big and sparely furnished, just a desk and a few chairs. A middle-age man was sitting behind the desk. He looked up when they came in and greeted them with a smile.

"Sit, please" he invited

Once they were seated, he began to talk.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* 

Special Agent Clint Pearsall called Assistant Director Noonan who then, called Director Tunberry . 

Once the three men were in a conference call, Pearsall announced.

"She wants to visit Lecter in his death row cell."

"That will be another embarrassment." Commented Noonan, "there seems to be no end to the embarrassment the Bureau will derive from this lose cannon."

"She has offered her resignation without conditions in exchange for being allowed to visit him on death row, she want to be with him until right before he gets the needle." There was a sarcastic undertone in Pearsall's voice and his eyes glittered with malice.

"The woman is mad!" Tunberry snarled, then thought for a few seconds,, "but the deal sounds good, as soon as she resigns we can then disassociate ourselves from her, she will look like the nut she's always been and we'll come out clean. She'll fall entirely in the hungry hands of the press and merciless public opinion. "

"So you'll go with it, boss?" Noonan wanted a hard yes.

"Yes, lets go with it."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Please let me know how you like the story so far. I'd really appreciate your comments. Being that this deviates "a bit" from the cannon 

Clariz


	2. Finishing the Arch Part II

_The characters belong to Thomas Harris, I own nothing. There is no profit involved. _

_I want to thanks all those who read this little fiction and took the time to comment and motivated me with their words to go on with part two_

Finishing the Arch- Part II 

The arrangements for Clarice's visit had been hastily done as soon as they got the OK from Director Tunberry. The doctor was scheduled to be executed the next day, and the arrangements involved some effort on the part of Pearsell and Noonan because they had to comply with the terms of the agreement of Starling's resignation. 

She had firmly insisted that she wanted to be admitted inside Dr. Lecter's cell, and that he would remain unrestrained during her visit. This last part of her request was unprecedented and had taken Noonan some extra insistence to convince the warden that Lecter was not likely to hurt Clarice Starling. Finally she agreed to sign a release assuming full responsibility for her safety. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Walking down the long corridor that lead to Dr. Lecter's cell, reminded Clarice of the walk in the dungeon at the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane, and she wished she could roll back time, and have an opportunity to start over.

When they got to his cell, the guard let her in.

Dr. Hannibal Lecter looked crisp and relaxed; wearing one of his own gray wool trousers and a fine blue shirt, delivered by his attorney the night before, his hair impeccably combed and smelling of his familiar aftershave.

The doctor had been waiting for her. "Good morning, Clarice" he said _as someone answering the door_.

"Good morning" she whispered softly, a little uncertain as how to proceed. 

"Please come in" he invited, his tone soft and collected as that of a perfect host

"Here, let me take your coat, please" he helped her remove her coat, folded it carefully, and wrapped it on the back of the single chair on the cell.

"I apologize for not offering you more comfortable arrangements, Clarice" he took her hands and looked deep into her eyes, now welled with tears. 

"Tell me now, Clarice, why have you risked everything to come and spend this last hours with me." His demeanor was calm and composed, a hint of tenderness in his tone.

Her voice, when she found it, was just above a whisper, "I resigned from the Bureau last night." She didn't pause long enough for him to comment and went on with a stronger voice thick with guilt and regret. 

"For years I tried first to ignore and then to repress my feeling for you, Dr. Lecter, and look where it got us. I am so sorry…" Two tears run down her cheek and he gently whipped them with one finger and lingered over the _courage_ mark on her left cheek. She lowered her eyes then, and whispered almost inaudibly, "I'm in love with you, that's why I'm here."

He took a deep breath, and slowly let the air out, as if a heavy weight had been lifted, and his soul set free from some invisible bonds that held it captive.

Tentatively, he wrapped his arms around her, and with infinite serenity, whispered

"Your words just now, and your coming here, Clarice, is all I ever whished for." the joy was evident on his smile and the gleam in his eyes. 

She snuggled against him, and they were both quiet for a few moments. Enjoying the close contact that they had both craved for so long. 

He then looked around and led her to his cot, the only place in the cell where they could both sit.

Clarice leaned toward him, spontaneously using his given name for the first time.

"Why did you come back, Hannibal? After the Chesapeake you had gotten away clear. To their embarrassment, the FBI didn't have a clue as to your whereabouts. You were safe. Why did you come back?" there was a hint of frustrated agitation in her voice. "You were safe!"

"I spend seven _safe_ years in Florence, Clarice, and I much rather have one _gleaming _moment with you, such as this one, than a _safe_ lifetime of _nothing _without you."

He sighed, "safe without you is my idea of hell."

Clarice began to cry and he held her, but she was unresponsive to his efforts to sooth her. Unreasonably, between sobs, she mumbled "I don't want you to die, I don't want you to leave me …ever"  
Hannibal Lecter kissed her wet check, shook his head slowly; then lifted her chin with two fingers and looked deep into her eyes. "I spent more than eight years inside your head, Clarice. I don't intent to leave now," he chuckled, "I'll stay there as long as you live. I'll always be with you. That's a promise."

She sobbed and shuddered, and he held her closer, smoothing her hair with one hand, until she stopped crying.

When her sobbing subsided completely, he rapidly switched to a lighter mood.

"Hey, Clarice, I have a surprise for you. With the help of Mr. Jenkins here we are going to have a formal date, you and I. Right here in the cell. "

"Mr Jenkins," he called in a louder voice. The guard approached.

"What is it Doctor?"

"Mr. Jenkins, did you manage to arrange everything as we planned when we found we were having a guest?" 

"Yes, indeed Doctor, the kitchen has your recipes and with the funds provided by your lawyer we managed to secure all the ingredients and two bottles of Chateau Y'quem, for the occasion."

"Thank you Mr. Jenkins, that was most kind, we will be fine with one bottle here. The second bottle is for you to take home to the wife, for a special occasion."

"There you go, Clarice," he said turning back to her, as graceful as a dancer "Didn't I promise you once that if you joined me in my cell we would have some fun?" Hannibal smiled and winked. 

As he expected, his attitude relaxed her, and she managed to reward him with a wide smile.

A few minutes later, the guard came back with a second chair and announced proudly. "The kitchen says is a go, lets say in an hour, Doctor . That will leave plenty of time for the movie and the rest of the day as you requested." 

"Very kind of you Mr. Jenkins, I really appreciate your help."

"See Clarice, our first _real date_." He announced proudly.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A few minutes after they finished their meal, the guard approached the cell, again

"Sorry to interrupt, folks, but this concerns you both." He turned on the TV mounted on a bracket on the hallway facing the cell. "You might want to see what is going on outside," he said urgently.

A mob of press trucks, cameras, lights and reporters were parked outside the prison, and a great commotion was in progress.

…_Clarice Starling the FBI's Angel of Death whose name has been associated to that of Dr. Hannibal the cannibal Lecter, since she_ _received information from him that resulted on the demise, at her hands, of serial killer Jame Gumb; resigned from the Bureau late yesterday, and has presently joined the infamous doctor in his death row cell, where she allegedly plans to stay with him until his execution later tonight…This late development seems to finally confirm the rumors of a romantic connection between the two._

_An alarming mass of demonstrators has gathered outside the prison demanding that she be tried as an accomplice for his crimes. The FBI has declined to make any comments; as Ms Starling is no longer their employee._

Clarice smiled. "Why am I not surprised? They leaked the information to the press to detract attention from themselves." She turned to the Doctor.

"Let them think what they want…in fact they are right on target. There has been a romantic connection between us from the beginning, I wish I had admitted it years ago."

He was standing, looking at her immobilized. "Was your resignation _their _conditions for this visit, Clarice?" his outrage evident as he annunciated the words very slowly, reminding Clarice of his _"what does he do, this man you seek?" _of years ago.

She smiled at him and nodded, "Yeap!" chuckling now, "my resignation in exchange for visiting privileges with you here." She shrugged, "no big deal, really, I couldn't stay in the job any longer, but used the resignation for leverage."

It was a big deal, and he knew it, the Bureau had been her life.

Hannibal Lecter walked to the cot, reached under his pillow, and pulled out a sealed envelope. "I prepared this for you, Clarice. Here are the locations, account numbers, and passwords to access all my Swiss bank accounts. You will find there is more than enough there to live comfortably for the rest of your life." 

She felt a big lump on her throat. Unable to speak, Clarice silently placed the envelope in her purse. 

"I willed my remaining possessions such as my clothes and books to Barney, confidentially instructing that he relinquish to you, privately, any item of your choice. He is going to have the time of his life selling Lecter memorabilia on E-bay. I expect they'd be rather valuable, specially after I'm death." He chuckled

Clarice tried to chuckle with him but began to cry instead, the sobbing wracking her whole body as the certainty of his execution became more and more of a reality. Hannibal pulled her towards him gently, and held her against his chest firmly to stop her shaking, hushing, and softly kissing her.

She threw her arms around his neck and held on to him. Slowly, the crying subsided again. She smiled at him amid her tears, "what does one say to a man about to be executed?"

"What do you think I'd like to hear the most?" he whispered.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

At Hannibal's suggestion, the guard called the warden who, in turn attempted to call Ardelia and ask her to come and get Clarice across mob outside, but Ardelia couldn't be reached. The warden's car was parked inside the prison on his regular spot by his office, and he offered to drive her to her car before the execution, which he had to attend.

When the time came, he escorted Clarice to his car, drove her to the parking lot outside the prison walls, and parked his car parallel to hers. She got off his car and into hers before the mob realized she had left the prison.

The drive back to the duplex was in a fog of despair, regret, and grief. She knew the Doctor had refused to ask for a stay, and as the time of his execution approached, her sorrow progressively increased.

When the time came, she turned off the car radio for fear to hear the announcement that he was dead. She couldn't go on driving, parked the car on the shoulder of the road, and started to cry. 

"Gone, Hannibal," she whispered between sobs, "this time you're gone forever."

"I'm not gone, Clarice," whispered the ever present voice in her head, "I'm right here as I've always been, you can count on that ."

His words, just when she needed them most, had a magic soothing effect on her. Slowly she composed herself, in a hurry now to get to get home and go to sleep as she promised him.

When she arrived to the duplex, the press was waiting for her arrival with cameras and light, along with a mass of angry onlookers screaming obscenities and carrying posters full of innuendo and death treats.

She couldn't park her car on her block due to the crowd, and had to drive around looking for a parking spot. Finally, she found one about a block and a half away, on a metered zone; parked the car and dug in her purse for coins for the parking meter. Once she had the four coins in her hand, she realized she wouldn't need them due to the later hour. With the coins still clenched in one hand, she dried her eyes and got off the car, ready to face the angry crowd.

She never got a chance. The sniper in the mob fired, and his bullets hit her twice on the chest, the impact, strong enough to knock her against the car and on to the floor. She thought of Evelda Drumgo, and pictured her leaning dead against the car…Before she died; Clarice felt Dr. Lecter's presence and heard voice, murmuring, "we finished the arch, Clarice."

Then she went blank 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Clarice woke in what appeared to be the first class section of an airplane; Hannibal was sitting beside her, leaning against the window so he could watch her; an open book resting on his lap . When she opened her eyes, he rapidly shifter his position and leaned over her, 

"Welcome back, Clarice" he murmured looking at her with a radiant and peaceful expression.

She didn't _need_ to ask to know they were both dead, but wanted to hear it from him anyway. Most of her memory seemed intact but some of the sequences seemed a little confusing.

"Where are we Hannibal," she felt compelled to whisper, though, there seem to be no other passengers. "We are dead, right?

His smile widened, his joy so contagious she giggled and felt silly she had asked. 

Maneuvering within the confinement of the seats, he placed one arm around her shoulders, turning while using his other hand to reach for hers,

"We are in an airplane, in heaven on our way to Paradise." He winked his _magic_ wink, and went on.

"Dead? Yes." he confirmed, "but I never felt more alive." his eyes were bright, twinkling impishly.

He let go of her hand, pulled her towards him, and kissed her enthusiastically. She managed to wrap her arms around his neck and responded with matching intensity. 

"I love you, Hannibal Lecter." She whispered with intensity she didn't know she possessed. 

"I've _always_ loved you, Clarice, almost from the start," he chuckled, "But you sure made me go thru hell to get you."They both laughed, their laugh blithe and free.

"Do we get to be together forever now?" She leaned her head on his shoulder.

"That's Paradise for me." He answered firmly.

Clarice sighed, "and me," she confirmed softly. Then with a playful look she asked,

"What do we get _to do_ for Eternity, Hannibal?" her tone was flirty, and Hannibal Lecter loved the sound of it.

He pulled her to him, looked straight at her with a meaningful grin and, enunciating every word very slow, announced triumphantly, 

_ **"Anything we want!"**_

FIN

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Please let me know if you enjoyed this fiction. Is not as if I'm going to go on and write about their _adventures in Paradise_, but comments are always a good motivation to go on and think of new scenarios.

Thanks for reading

Clariz


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